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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22480297">The chore of helping E.J Caswell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boys Being Boys, Drabble, Friendship, Gay Disaster Carlos Rodriguez, Gen, Sarcasm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 12:40:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22480297</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"You can't be serious."</p><p>The snort he gets in return is short, an amalgamation of disbelief, confidence, and a sass that only Carlos can hold that emulates the words 'try me' in a way EJ can't comprehend.</p><p>"Deadly," the younger boy speaks, a neatly plucked eyebrow raised above the frames of his glasses, "sit on the floor, Caswell. The longer you stand, the longer you're here."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>E.J. Caswell &amp; Carlos Rodriguez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The chore of helping E.J Caswell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Just a little drabble from my tumblr about EJ and Carlos because their friendship has my heart.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Carlos can't exactly pinpoint when he agreed to this - actually he doesn't think he did at all; however Elijah James Caswell is staring at him like he holds the secrets of the universe in his soft gay palms, and the choreographer doesn't have the heart to turn back when EJ has come to him for help. </p><p>They find themselves in the rehearsal room - standing face to face, a few metres apart. Carlos is tapping the white lid of his Starbucks to-go cup with his painted fingernails, eyes trained solely on the senior in front of him whose mouthing all of Troy's lines like his life depends on it. </p><p>"Whispering the lines under your breath won't magically fix the look of constipation on your face when you cry," the choreographer states, sipping at his espresso and sighing when somehow - yet again - the heat manages to fog up his glasses through the lid. EJ's eyes flicker up to the junior, and his mouth kind of drops open.</p><p>It's a mixture of shock, hurt, and utter disbelief - and amuses the sophomore to no end.</p><p>Carlos gets that the dig was kind of mean, but he wasn't exactly <i>wrong</i>.</p><p>"Look, you wanted my help," he starts, setting down the cup on the surface of the piano, "and I'm here to give it. That means we do this my way - and you're gonna get a lot more blunt comments where that came from. Understand?"</p><p>Elijah sighs, taps the curled script against his thigh and nods as he gives in to the terms. </p><p>"Sure," the older of the pair says, as one side of his mouth curls upwards in a way that doesn't exactly constitute a smile, "what have you got for me then, teach?"</p><p>A pointed gaze blinks behind round glasses.</p><p>"You can act," Carlos informs, as if it's brand new information, "but you tend to over-act, and use the wrong assets. I get you're onstage and you're worried people can't see whatever emotion you're giving off, but you need to rely less on facial features and more on voice and body placement."</p><p>And that, EJ thinks, is a pretty fair assessment.</p><p>"So instead of jumping straight into the script, I think acting exercises might help us start somewhere."</p><p><i>Just when I thought Carlos would help, he takes me back to third grade</i>. </p><p>EJ is less than happy, but he isn't sure that anybody else would be willing to help him - plus he and Carlos were the only ones left in school now that the day was finished, apart from the marching band that the pair could faintly hear if they stayed quiet for just long enough.</p><p>"So it's simple, I'm going to state an emotion or a scene example - and you're going to write down ways to show character interaction," Carlos throws down a book of lined paper. It lands on the floor with a dull 'thwack' and EJ turns his nose up.</p><p>"You can't be serious."</p><p>The snort he gets in return is short, an amalgamation of disbelief, confidence, and a sass that only Carlos can hold that emulates the words 'try me' in a way EJ can't comprehend.</p><p>"Deadly," the younger boy speaks, a neatly plucked eyebrow raised above the frames of his glasses, "sit on the floor, Caswell. The longer you stand, the longer you're here."</p><p>The senior let's his body flop to the ground, and in a split second he's transported back to kindergarten where he sat behind Jodie Hendrickson, and pulled her pigtails until she whacked him so hard he bruised.</p><p>"What now? We sing 'Old McDonald' and pass around a bean bag while we both share stories of our parents divorce?" EJ rolls his eyes. It's not aimed at anyone in particular, not even him to be deadly honest - his parents are pretty happy. But the look that Carlos gives holds a fire behind it that feels like it's burning out his insides and leaving Elijah James Caswell a hollow husk of himself. EJ doesn't know why he's being glared at.</p><p>"If you're going to be insensitive or take the mick out of me when I'm giving up my free time to help you, then tell me now so I can leave."</p><p>There's a pregnant pause in the air, a faint trombone solo carries from the music room down the hall. </p><p>EJ feels like an idiot.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he mutters, fiddling with his fingers. It takes him a moment to look up and meet Carlos' eye. When he does, he looks genuinely apologetic, "I'm sorry - please… please continue." </p><p>The boy blinks back at him, and nods as a hint of a smile graces his lips. </p><p>"You know, if you channeled your own emotion into your acting and performed more like that onstage - maybe you would've gotten Troy in the first place, and wouldn't be glaring Ricky down everytime he rehearses." </p><p>And EJ is offended.</p><p>"I do not glare him down!"</p><p>And Carlos is cackling, head thrown back and trying not to choke on the laughter that rattles his chest. EJ taps his pen against the paper before starting to chuckle too, and wonders if he and Carlos could get through this after-school lesson - that they could be actual proper friends.</p><p>EJ's never had one of those before.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hmu on Tumblr @ Rickysring and feel free to send prompts and other stuff cool? Cool.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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